


Taking Blame

by Sangfroid_Sorrow



Series: Love is Silence [1]
Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drunkness, F/M, Friendship, Guilt, Joseb - Freeform, Joseph's married life, Loneliness, M/M, Mistakes, Mourning, Regret, Requited yet secret Love, Secrets, broken marriages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6921163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sangfroid_Sorrow/pseuds/Sangfroid_Sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joseph has a devoted wife and a beautiful daughter, so why does he feel this way for Sebastian Castellanos?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Blame

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Bryony and Calla are OCs, because canon Joseph is married with a daughter that we know little to nothing about. When I refer to 'Brown', I mean Arnold Brown, an investigator who went missing according the posters in the game, who I decided to make into one of the KCPD's authority roles. This is slightly connected to my last fic, 'All His Fault', but tries its best to avoid being AU. Thanks for reading!

Joseph is selfish.

He's alone, hopeless, and about to lose everything- and yet he still does not think of his family. The dark is closing in, slowly but surely, and he knows his time is up. He wants to say 'I love you' but he doesn't know who to, and he hates that he's so indecisive as to consider offering his last words to anyone but his spouse. He knows that he could only ever leave her with three words- so very, very different to what she always wanted.

_"I'm so sorry"_

* * *

He has a beautiful wife, Bryony, in another world. She cooks and cleans and makes little promises that she'll always keep, because she loves him. He tells her every night that he'll be 'back by 10', but even these small details are twisted in a way even she has grown to recognise. She smiles for him, because the frown on his face hurts her just as much, and cooperates lightly, murmuring a 'or 11- that would be fine, love'. Joseph wonders what he ever did to deserve someone so wonderful, and wishes he could return each softly whispered sentiment without the cruel regret he feels upon meeting her blue eyes.

He thinks she knows his secret, without understanding that he knows hers. Joseph likes to imagine everyone but himself as perfect- he doesn't see the flashy magazines strewn across the table, or how the woman abstains from eating until he comes home each night. He's mentioned, once or twice, that she's lost weight. She giggles, nervously, before reminding him that she's been taking exercise classes since she had their baby. Bryony hadn't objected when he'd admitted he wanted to call the child 'Calla', and now she stays at home to take care of their gorgeous daughter. Calla has Joseph's brown eyes, though they're a sort of hickory shade- more like Sebastian's than his. Bryony has noticed this, and the fact that he's named their little girl after a lily flower, but she doesn't comment. He knows she's trying desperately to 'be better', to attract her spouse's attention as she once did, but he can't bring himself to remark on her efforts. They're a quiet couple, and because Joseph is selfish, he keeps things that way.

Calla, for a mere babe, seems all the ready to choose who she's willing to associate with. She's careful, like he is, and considers her options closely. She appears to understand what a blessing she is to her parents - the child to remind them of a tired marriage- and loves them dearly, but there is one other soul she trusts more than any of them. Sebastian Castellanos is his daughter's hero, and Joseph knows that will never change.

* * *

In the beginning, the visits of his partner were sparse. The man was empty- forlorn and trapped in bitter mourning. He swigged down mugs of coffee before work in an attempt of anaesthetic, rarely bothering to wash the stains of alcohol of previous evenings from his wash-worn shirt. He was consumed in a senseless cycle of concealed pain and loud drunken nights, where nothing ever mattered until morning. Myra was no Bryony- she didn't hold Sebastian's hand or clean his sheets when nightmares left them soaked in sweat, she didn't even share a bed with him anymore. The pair had disappointed one another. Both needed someone to ease the pain, but neither were capable of looking the other in the eye. There was no blame, only a fear of it. Lily's death was on no one's shoulders, but the two carried it around with them as though the heaving weight was their punishment.

One night, Bryony had called Joseph down from his little office. He'd ambled down their homely staircase and into the warm hallway, chilled slightly by the open door. Bryony stood there, her hand resting on the handle with a concerned expression on her face. She had started to explain what was wrong when Joseph's world went silent. Sebastian was leaning against the doorway, staring into the house at the soft red rugs spread across the halls. He looked as though he would sink into the floor without aid, so Joseph strode past his wife to wrap an arm across the drunkard's shoulders. His partner hadn't called in on the Oda family since the fire, and Joseph had little doubt that things had somehow worsened. Sebastian was the sort of man who would suffer through every circle of hell before any of his unwarranted struggles could ever improve. Bryony wordlessly closed the door behind them, quietly biting her lip as Joseph led his friend over to his armchair by the fire.

The man had turned his gaze into the flames, and both Odas wondered if he was imagining his daughter, encaged in an inferno too cruel for a child so warm (burning, then). They were unable to pry any substantial information from the harrowed drunk, and left him in front of the fireplace with a woolly blanket for comfort. Bryony, having known Joseph for so long, seemed to savvy that he was surely going to return to his friend, and hugged him goodnight instead of waiting for him to join her. As her boney arms wrapped around his neck she muttered into his jumper, "Myra left. He kept saying she was 'gone' before you came downstairs. I don't know what we should do, but she's ruined him tonight..."

Joseph fell asleep on the couch across from Sebastian with his wife's final words echoing behind every guise of dream. Nightmares plagued him that night, recalling every mistake and regret in his substandard life. He had known, even at the time, that he was missing something. Perhaps he had fooled himself into believing it was just an average mid-life crisis of sorts, though the longing for that unknown warmth remained with him until the end.

Somehow, when he woke that morning, it was not to the sound of ear-splitting cries or fanatical laughter. Calla seemed quiet, he realised, and that was an oddity in itself. Carefully, he dislodged himself from the sinking couch and noticed Sebastian's sudden absence. He hurried to the kitchen to ask Bryony where the man had vanished to this time only to find his friend seated at the table, beaming at his baby girl. He was dishevelled and his dark hair was tussled with sleep, but there was something resembling mirth in his weary eyes.

"She's glowing, Joseph," Sebastian had declared as the little girl smirked, displaying her two teeth in pride. The KCPD's top detective was bouncing Calla Oda on his lap, mimicking each silly face with the competence of a doting father. It made Joseph smile too, but something agonising struck his heart and he felt the grin crumple.

"You too, Seb," he had murmured, as though he and Sebastian were the only ones in the room. The man's lips curve further upward with the sentiment, and his gaze is what makes Joseph feel warm. It's as though they're at the fireside again, but this time a certain joy pollutes the fumes.

Laughing, Sebastian passed Calla back to a quiet Bryony. "I'd better go," he said cautiously, throwing Joseph a glance as though to remind him that he  _could_  leave whenever he wanted. He always did. "... Thank you."

As he turned to move toward the front door Joseph stopped him with a worried call- "Promise me you won't go to the pub tonight, right Seb?"

His partner's eyes flickered with something tired, and his grin faltered briefly. "Yeah, Joseph. Of course I won't."

Hours later, Sebastian Castellanos was hung-over and draped across the floor of Myra's room when Joseph arrived to test such a promise, and Seb's only argument is a heart-wrenching "Fuck, I- I  _didn't_  go to the pub, Jojo."

* * *

Later, when Bryony realises the man's been drinking again she's not so sure about letting him near their baby, but Joseph knows that Sebastian could ever hurt a child- let alone the young Oda. Gradually, as Sebastian skives off paperwork and Joseph entraps himself in his office, Bryony grows to like the Castellanos widower a little more. They're both coping terribly with something their loved ones can't understand, and although dieting is a weakness Sebastian seems to accept that his excessive drinking is one too, and they talk for hours about addictions they can't control, and how they're not sure if they'll ever want to try to. Both are stubborn - though Bryony is soft while Sebastian remains gruff - and think the other should find help. They're conversations are often filled with comfortable silence, a perennial that would be awkward with anyone else. Bryony likes to talk about Joseph and how she doesn't feel good enough for him anymore, and Sebastian sometimes agrees and grumbles something about 'burdening his partner'. The pair are harsh to each-other when they have the remind one another that it's 'not their fault', and yet Bryony becomes skinnier and Sebastian falls further into drink.

One night, when Joseph is stuck in work scrawling accounts of their latest investigations, something breaks. Calla is staying with a couple of Bryony's close cousins so Sebastian brings some of his best whiskey. The two slump into their chairs at the kitchen table and neither hesitate to pour a lazy serving into their long glasses. Sebastian is unfamiliar with drinking without the bottle cold against his lips but he swallows the firewater back without difficulty, and soon their conference becomes a lot more personal. Bryony is admitting she wants a dog, and that she always forgets that Joseph is allergic before she asks. She says it upsets her for reasons she can't quite fathom, grouching witheringly that he can bear Sebastian- and, really, what's the difference? Her husband loves him like a dog.

Laughing, Sebastian hears himself say that he loves Joseph too, and when Bryony's glass shatters against the ground he realises he's made a irreversible mistake. Her big blue eyes are wide in frenzy, and she's shaking with a panic that is entirely his fault. He packs up and rushes out the door, leaving the lone wife with a bottle of whiskey and an empty house.

The next evening, when they're both sober and sombre, they discuss it. Sebastian tells her that he understands that his 'fucking stupid' feelings are unreturned and Bryony thanks him, sounding desperate as she recalls her 'perfect marriage' and then the broken duo's 'newborn friendship'. She says, calmer now, that she doesn't want to lose either of them. Sebastian laughs with her, because they both know if she'll lose anyone, it'll be him.

"I'm never drinking again," she says wryly, sharing an ironic smile with him. "Damn magazines lie when they say it helps with weight."

Sebastian can list off a thousand other maladies it contributes to, but seeing how he's bound to have half of them he doesn't comment. Bryony says goodbye and he knows that, this time, she means it. Neither can meet the other's eye, and hers seem all too numb. She's worn out, so much so that she forgets he is too. She holds Calla and the baby waves a frantic chubby hand before Sebastian drives away for good. It's that colourless Sunday that he is told he's been reported to Internal Affairs, and that his job is on the line. He slams a fist through the cheap wall of his bedroom and lets the blood flow down his fist. He collapses onto his bed, trying to avoid looking through the gaudy hole into his wife's room. He doesn't cry, now, because he's tired. Too tired. He doesn't feel anything as his bleeding hand goes cold, and only rises hours later to find another bottle.

Sebastian hopes the Odas are happy, and refrains from any sort of contact with the family. He feels lost, in drink and cigarette, but he hides it better. He has to, or he'll lose everything.

* * *

Calla mourns the loss of Sebastian and the whole family suffers the consequences. The couple often must reject sleep to comfort the betrayed babe, and when her first word escapes through a woeful cry of 'bye bye!' and soon later, 'no bye bye!' Joseph realises his child has watched a father figure walk out of her life without warning. She's as heart-broken as a child with limited memories can be, and he pretends he doesn't feel the same. As the baby gradually forgets about her weary hero, Joseph almost wishes he could do the same.

After what feels like one hundred years, Joseph is involved in a very draining investigation, one from which he earns a two week break. He's relieved, but the sweetness of hanging around his house from morning to noon dwindles with time and Bryony reminds him that 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'. He knows that she's talking about work, but somehow thinks about Sebastian, and when the man and Joseph's heart are considered in the same sentence a stark reality becomes all too clear. He thinks, as he accepts a cup of steaming tea from his devoted wife, that he might be in love with Sebastian Castellanos, but it's all too late and he sinks further into his growing regrets.

* * *

Sebastian can't hate Joseph, but rather forces himself into a cool indifference. They converse at work when he's finally able to return to the KCPD, but it's idle chat that skirts around the topics they both need to review. He's no longer a foolishly happy drunk, and becomes all too surly as he continues the habit. He's also brusque in the workplace, but people still respect him. Even the witty new kid, Kidman, holds him in regard when he plays by the rules.

He doesn't forgive and he doesn't forget, but when Joseph arrives on his doorstep crying he can't bring himself to reject the man. He leads him to the messy sitting room and ignores the parallels to a night he'd rather forget. He doesn't recommend his partner some whiskey, but instead makes the man a cup of hot tea in the cleanest mug he has. He puts his own scruffily cherished jacket around Joseph's shoulders and sits across from him, not forcing him to speak but rather just offering his temperate company.

It doesn't come as a surprise that Joseph just wants to blather about his concern for Bryony because he's  _finally_  noticed that something wrong. Sebastian lets the other man vent his unease and fear for his darling wife. He doesn't tell Joseph that knows all this. He doesn't want Joseph to hate him.

"I don't know what to do Seb," the younger man sighs. He looks exhausted, as though the only thing keeping him awake is simple worry and the burning tea Sebastian has handed him. "I think I've ruined her."

Sebastian itches to take a cigarette and turn away from the conversation, because Joseph is  _right_. Bryony isn't strong enough to handle her own flaws, but neither is Joseph. They indulge themselves in tiresome circles of pity and regret, unable to admit that they took a wrong turn somewhere along the way, and now they've travelled too far to recall where. But who's Sebastian to say so? He's worse than both of them, and they all know it.

"It's not your fault," he tells him instead. "Some people are just... fucking wired like that, Joseph. You just have to take care of her now- you need each other."

"I don't understand," Joseph mutters, ignoring him as he stares at the photo of the Castellanos family that stands, cleansed of dust or stain, in an empty corner of the coffee table. Sebastian winces upon noticing the object of the other's curiosity, but forces himself to watch his shaking friend instead. "I keep destroying everything. Bryony, our marriage- I... I almost destroyed you too."

Sebastian straightens in his seat, sending him an incredulous glance. "The fuck?"

His partner huffs an angry sigh. "You don't even trust me anymore- not that I blame you, of course, but it still..."

Voice rough and gravelly, Sebastian corrects him, "Joseph, don't. Just because I don't trust you as much as before doesn't mean you've goddamn ruined me! Don't even  _try_  and feed me that bullshit."

Sebastian doesn't know why he's angry and this point. Maybe it's because he cares, but he tells himself it's because he doesn't. He can't care.

"You're right!" Joseph bursts out with, looking all too pissed off. "Myra did! Myra and Lily did but- but somehow I managed to ruin whatever 'Sebastian' was left!"

Both men are fuming, and Joseph is glaring heavily over his glasses. It takes all but a moment for the steam to stop rising from his ears before he sags against the armchair.

"I don't think we should talk, now," Joseph says quietly, not meeting his eyes. "We'll just make each other angrier."

Silently agreeing, Sebastian wanders off to find the whiskey he'd been interrupted from.

* * *

When he awakes from his drunken stupor with a pounding headache and two bottles less than he'd had the day prior, Sebastian finds himself alone. It's nothing he's not long acquainted with, so he can't comprehend why, in his hung-over state, he feels somewhat betrayed. As though he had expected Joseph to stay while he hummed classic melodies like 'Clair de Lune' from the bathroom floor. He snorts to himself, amused at the thought of ever waking up with company again. Even Myra had left him while drunk. He's not sure why he constantly compares the two in his head, but finds that the lonesome ordeal mirrors that of a one-night stand. It would explain why he feels empty now, knowing Joseph has returned to fuss over his lovely wretched wife.

Sebastian curses to himself as he slips into the shower when he realises he's fully dressed, but allows a warily gruff laugh escape him. He's not upset, he tells himself. He just wishes Joseph'd had the courtesy to remove the man's whiskey-stained jumper upon finding him in the bathtub. Later, as he holds a towel close to his body and approaches his room, he stops outside Myra's door. It takes him a moment to remember that nothing's alright, and that he's lost everything. He wonders how a mere drunk night with his Japanese-Canadian friend could ever make him forget that, and feels himself slouch, insensate, against the door. It's cold, and he remembers that this is Myra's towel, and he longs for her to keep him warm instead.

* * *

_"I don't even fucking know why, but I know I shouldn't-"_

_Sebastian muscles his way through the mantra. "Shouldn't what, Jojo?"_

_"I think I love you- no, damn it, I definitely love you, Sebastian. I can't explain why but I do. It-" he pauses for a moment as his eyes glaze over. He sighs irritably. "It sucks."_

_Sebastian's not quite sure what to make of what he's hearing, so he just laughs. He's drunk, and what a stupid drunk he'd be if he took everything he heard as true. It stings, as most things do when he's in this state. He wonders if he's dreaming now. He stares at the man, as though he's just an illusion. It would explain a lot, and fake-Joseph seems uncomfortable suddenly, shuffling awkwardly in his chair. Sebastian tries to mimic him but only ends up swaying loosely. He snorts at his own incompetence._

_"You never drink with me, Jojo, why now?"_

_The younger man doesn't look at him, rather choosing to inspect the floor with a vacant fatigue. "Never again."_

* * *

Joseph holds Bryony Oda and promises her all he can. He tells her he loves her, dearly, because Sebastian is right. She  _needs_  him- his partner doesn't. He reminds her that she is his everything, that she has to be strong for their daughter and that he will be there every step of the way. He hates that every word feels like a lie, but the love and reverence in his wife's eyes is enough to sanctify falsehood. She kisses him softly and says that, with him by her side, everything will be okay. Joseph nods and pulls her closer, because he's scared she'll disappear if he doesn't. She's so small in his arms. It doesn't feel right.

He tightens the embrace and pretends that things will be better now, trying to forget the widower he left alone in a cold bathtub.

* * *

 

* * *

"Myra's been missing for two months, and the KCPD are doing jackshit about it!"

"Sebastian, think about it, I know you're worried but we have important cases to deal wi-"

"What if she's dead, Joseph? What if she's  ** _fucking dead_**?"

"She won't be! You can't just jump to the worst conclusion, she might have just left for... for..."

"Some alone-time or shit? You think she ran away from me too, don't you?"

"Sebastian _,_  no-"

 _A broken sigh._  "Just... fuck, tell Brown I'll be missing work today. Goodbye, Joseph."

"Wait! Seb,  _what are you_ -"

_**Click** _

* * *

* * *

 

The phone hangs limply from its wire as Sebastian Castellanos storms away from the small telephone booth.

Sure, even he has wondered if Myra had left to distance them even more than the alcohol and separate rooms could, but he dismisses the thought. They loved one another, and even though they couldn't overcome their grief together he had felt happier by tenfolds when she was still with him. Now, he is truly alone, and the torment of such isolation is something he knows Myra would never abandon him with. She wouldn't leave him like this if she'd had the choice. She wouldn't discard him as though he meant nothing to her. (Sebastian needs this to be true.)

Angry and tired and now withdrawn from all his friends, Sebastian knows he won't be able to return to himself without Myra. Perhaps she's out there somehow too, heartbroken and serving as a hollow reflection to his own companionless despair.

He leaves what he no longer regards as 'his home' that day, without the slightest idea that it would months upon months ( _if ever_ ) before he could ever return.

He doesn't think Joseph will follow, either, but, really, he shouldn't be surprised.

* * *

_"Why do you do this, Sebastian?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Why do you try so hard? For all you know it's just a lost cause."_

_"Another lost cause... ha, Joseph. You have no idea how far I'd go for a lost cause."_

* * *

 


End file.
